Bed of Roses
by iHeartMintChocolate
Summary: What happens when you've been cursed to be the most beautiful being when you turn 15? When all you want is solitude but the dark forces will not allow it? When people are waiting to kill you? When the boy who's bullied you for years is now depending on you to fix him? My name is Jocelyn Heringale, and this my story on how Draco Malfoy was my hope, and I his guiding light ...
1. Prologue

_**Prologue**_

**September 13, 1981. Southern, England**

A blunt knock sounded on the Kirkwood's door, contrasting greatly against the haunting silence of the brisk midnight air in the little town situated in Southern England. Almost immediately, the mood inside the little home deepened, merging into an eerie quiet.

Immediately following the knocking, the entire house went pitch black, all forms of light and warmth executed.

Where moments before, there was a joyful couple celebrating the first birthday of their lone daughter, had now become a shadowy gloom. It was as if the happiness and glee had been forcefully ripped away by a supernatural force. Almost as if it were _magic_.

"Scott, what's happening?" Asked a trembling Eve Kirkwood, shivering from the little tremors running up and down her spine. The now defused candle which was just about to be placed on a little birthday cupcake lay on the floor, having been dropped by Mrs. Kirkwood when the electricity went out.

"I-I don't know. Probably just one of the neighbours, love." Mr. Kirkwood answered, not even being able to re-assure himself.

"At midnight?" Mrs. Kirkwood questioned. "No. This doesn't feel right." She commented, unable to interpret the cause behind the sudden and drastic change of the atmosphere. _Who_ could_ possibly have something so important that they'd need to come knocking at midnight?_

Scott Kirkwood attempted to put on the bravest face he could, not wanting to scare his wife and daughter. "Hun, how about you go and put her to sleep?" He pointed at the little toddler in the high-chair who had occupied herself by watching herself wiggle her chubby little feet. She seemed very content in watching her toes move back and forth, but even she didn't smile. _And that is something the couple found extremely peculiar_.

Usually their little one was always laughing and giggling, or even just smiling. Their daughter was a natural smiler, never one to cause much trouble. Even as a baby, her smile was extraordinarily bright and held often.

Scott gazed at his daughter lovingly, not understanding why when he looked at her, he felt his gut drop. Almost as if this were his first time meeting her, yet also almost as if it were his last.

Mr. Kirkwood gently removed his baby girl from her chair and brought her close to his chest.

_** Knock knock.**_

The door sounded again, causing him to squeeze his daughter tighter. "I love you my little princess." He whispered. "You and your mum mean the world to me, and don't you ever forget that." Mr. Kirkwood felt his Adams Apple bob up and down as he swallowed a giant lump. He needed to finish this fast but still make it meaningful – just in case.

He thought for a moment and then smiled, the perfect words coming to mind as he spotted the soft little orange hairs on her forehead. "Live happy my little Leprechaun." He mumbled in her ear.

Then he kissed her cheeks and placed a few quick pecks on the infant's eyelids. A short glance at his trembling wife let him know that it was time to let go. Reluctantly, he squeezed his daughter one last time and gradually pulled her little form away from his chest, gently placing her in her mother's arms.

"Go upstairs to our room. Lock the door and do not let anyone in unless you're completely sure it's me." He demanded with a caring tone, gripping his wife's shoulder as he spoke. "Keep her close." Scott sighed, before quickly urging the two most important people in his life upstairs.

_** Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock.**_** Knock.**

Whoever was on the other side of the door was growing increasingly impatient.

Just as Eve turned to make her way upstairs, she was stopped by her husband. She whipped her head around immediately, staring desperately into her spouse's eyes. She watched as he poked his inner cheek out with his tongue, a habit he'd kept since his teen years.

Before she could ask what was wrong, Scott pulled her close, attaching their lips. Eve felt her stomach flip, just as it had the first time they'd kissed and exactly like what it's been doing for the past nine years.

The kiss was short, but still sweet. Eve could feel the blush sill creep up on her cheeks, even after almost a decade.

"I love you." Scott whispered, caressing her cheek as he smiled at her.

But unfortunately, just as quick as he'd brought her back, he'd managed to let her go. Eve rushed up the wooden stairs of the little home she lived in with Scott, her gaze glued to his the entire time. With one last loving gaze and a slight bite of the lip, she ripped her eyes from the man she loved and turned down the hall, rushing into their room. She made sure to lock the door behind her, balancing her precious daughter on her hip.

"Come on sweetie." she whispered. "Let's get you to sleep."

Mrs. Kirkwood gently placed her daughter on the Queen-sized bed which she shared with Scott, and then she climbed in beside her daughter, cuddling her little body into her chest. Eve held her baby close, breathing heavily in anticipation for her husband.

26 years old and she already worried about him like a senior in a retirement home would.

Attempting to calm herself down so that she wouldn't frighten her baby, she rubbed her hand up and down her little ones back. Her daughters warmth immediately traveled through her, making her feel as if she had warm molasses running through her veins.

A sigh escaped Eve as she began to sink into the mattress, finally feeling slightly at ease.

* * *

_**BAM!**_

Eve bolted into a seated position, the loud noise frightening her out of the hazy half-asleep-half-awake state she'd fallen into. She gasped, trying to regain her breathing pattern. One of her hands was pressed against her heart, having had a panic attack.

Before she did or thought anything, her first instinct was to check her baby. As she turned her head to look down at her daughter, she silently praised the Lord, seeing that her child was comfortably snoozing away.

Eve gulped as she turned back to stare at the door, her other hand coming up to cover her gaping expression.

As she continued to try and control her breathing, it trembled. A sudden knock on the bedroom door caused it to halt altogether.

She felt herself gasp as someone fumbled with the door knob. A frustrated sigh escaped whoever was trying to get in.

"Honey, it's just me." She heard the familiar voice of her husband and immediately calmed down.

_ Thank God, he's okay_, she thought as she moved out of bed and made her way towards the door. Swiftly unlocking it, she opened the door and moved back to let him in.

The sight of him was relaxing, but the look on his face caused her to second guess herself.

Scott Kirkwood stood glaring at her as if she were worthless piece of trash, his disgust portrayed very blatantly as he stared her down. A small smirk pulled at his lips, but nothing which causing her warmth. His demeanor advertised something very devious, causing her heart to slow from terror. It felt as if fingers of ice were gradually and excruciatingly painfully curling around her heart.

"Scott? Are you okay?" Mrs. Kirkwood questioned, feeling very much intimidated.

"Fine." Someone answered eerily. "Just a tad peachy." It wasn't the fact that Scott was being weird which scared her anymore, it was the realization that he wasn't the one who'd answered her.

Eve felt herself automatically move back as a woman with curly brown hair and light chocolate skin crept out from the shadow of the hallway. She had her eye makeup heavily done and her floor length, lacy dress had a dangerous edge about it, making her overall appearance look a little crazy yet elegant.

"S-Scott, who's th-this?" Mrs. Kirkwood asked, very much terrified.

The mystery woman smirked, just like Scott had been.

"Oh, he won't be able to answer you." She grinned devilishly. "Well, not until I let him that is." She cackled.

Mrs. Kirkwood's eyes grew to size of tiny saucers. _What does this woman mean?_ She asked herself frantically.

"I-I d-don't understand." Eve stuttered.

"Typical muggle." The woman muttered, making it sound as if it were bile on her tongue.

"Pardon?" Mrs. Kirkwood dared to ask.

She heard the woman grumble unintelligently, cursing out of annoyance. "Look," the mystery woman suddenly spat. "I've got your little troll of husband under control. A little wave of the wand here, a little _Abracadabra_ there, and _Voila_!" She exclaimed disinterested. "The Imperius Curse comes in handy yet again." An actual snarl escaped the woman's mouth.

"Wand? _Abracadabra_? Imper-" Eve asked, but was cut off by the woman.

"Yes!" She screamed. "It's called _Magic_. In case you haven't heard of it, it's performing trickery using supernatural forces. Dim-witted Mudblood." She growled viciously, having lost her temper very quickly.

"Now, I have your filthy husband under control, and I won't hesitate to _Crucio_ you so that you writhe in pain in front of him. If you want to see another ounce of daylight, you'll hand me the girl." The stranger spat.

Mrs. Kirkwood's lip trembled. What was the mad woman going on about? Magic? Mudblood? _Crucio_? Was she honestly claiming she's a witch?

What is going on here?

"I-I don't b-believe you." Eve mumbled.

"Give me the girl." The woman urged.

Mrs. Kirkwood knew exactly who the woman was taking about. "No! You stay away from my baby!" She exclaimed, surprising herself

"WHAT?!" The psychotic woman bursted out suddenly. "How dare you speak to me like that you filthy Mudblood. You don't even deserve to eat the dirt which we Pure-bloods spit on." She shrieked. "Don't understand eh?" She asked sarcastically, a dark look forming in her pupils. "I'll show you understand! _Crucio_!"

Eve immediately dropped to the floor, an excruciating pain pulsing through her body. Her entire body was being tortured; it felt as if her inner being was hurting as well. Pain shot up and down her body, in and out, causing her to shriek and cry out in pain.

"Stop it! Stop it! Make it stop!" Mrs. Kirkwood desperately cried, her shoulders and knees popping in and out uncontrollably.

The worst part was the consistency of the pain. It continued and continued, not lessening a single bit. In the distance, Eve could hear a crying baby and a cackling woman.

Tears spilled rapidly down her cheeks as she writhed in pain, convulsing on the spot. "Stop it, PLEASE!" She shrieked.

After a few moments, the pain went away but the remaining damage was still present. Mrs. Kirkwood lay lifeless on the floor, only a dull throbbing in her ear assured her she was still alive.

On the other hand, his wife's shriek had somehow released him from his trance. Scott collapsed onto the ground, feeling completely drained.

As he moved his head so he could look up, he watched horrified as the mysterious woman who had barged into his home, pointed a stick at his wife who was convulsing in pain on the ground. He watched as the woman crept towards the little bundle on the bed, in which you could hear the sobs of his little girl.

At the sight of this scenario, Scott picked up a screwdriver which had been left on his study. He gathered all the power he could and picked himself up. Winding his arm back, he chucked the screwdriver at the strangers head, nailing the target. "STAY AWAY FROM MY DAUGHTER!" He screamed.

The devious woman dropped her wand in shock, which stopped whatever horrifying thing she was doing to Eve. After taking a moment to collect herself, she smirked.

She swiftly picked up her wand and pointed it at Eve. "_Avada Kedavra_!" She screamed. Scott was only able to watch as his wife who had been heavily breathing just moments ago, completely fell limp.

"NOOOOO!" Mr. Kirkwood screamed.

The woman moved toward his bed and picked up the bundle of blankets containing the only person left who mattered to him. She held his baby girl and smiled devilishly down at her as pointed her wand at his heart. "Look what's going to happen to daddy because he was a bad boy." The woman coo's dauntingly at his daughter.

"STAY AWA –" Scott attempted scream, reaching towards his baby girl. His last beacon of light. But he was cut off by the woman.

"_Avada Kedavra_!" She exclaimed suddenly. Scott felt the life leave him as he crumpled to the floor, lifeless.


	2. Chapter One

_**Chapter One**_

_**Last Day of Summer, 1991. Godric's Hollow.**_

"Have you got your robes? What about your cloak, it gets chilly. Did you pack your gloves? And that mountain of books you need? All eight of them? God forbid, what school has requirement of eight textbooks? Lyn, please tell me you shrunk your cauldron to fit the trunk. And oh Lord, we did buy your wand, didn't we? Oh Joce– "

Jocelyn cut off the babbling elder as he frantically questioned her about her supplies. "Uncle Ab! I've quadruple checked everything on the list, please don't worry." She chuckled. "I feel as if you're jitterier than I."

She watched a deep sigh escape her Uncle as he reached out for her, pulling her petite ten-year-old frame towards his age-affected body. A smile captured his face as Jocelyn took his hand in hers.

"Definitely jittery." He grinned, causing the deep wrinkles on his face to steepen. "And also, how many times have I told you to stop calling me Uncle? You're a daughter to me and I'd prefer you called me something along the lines of father, or even grandfather if that's what it takes." Her Uncle caressed her back with his tender hand, causing warmth to flow through her just as it has all these years.

"You know I love you like a father." Jocelyn whispered. "But it just makes me feel as if I'm disrespecting the memory of my real dad, no offense." Her happy grin lowered a bit at the thought of her father. She hadn't even gotten to know him, let alone recall a memory.

She felt her Uncle take her chin in his hand and lift it back up to face him. "None taken. Jocelyn Heringale, if there's anyone in this world whom I would do anything for, it's you. And that also means that I can accept being called 'Uncle' if that's what you'd prefer."

"Thank you." The girls' everlasting smile dawned on her face yet again as her Uncle pulled her in for a hug and then finally let go.

"I can't believe it's finally time for you to go to Hogwarts." Her Uncle mused. "If it were up to me I'd personally teach you the works, just so I wouldn't have to see the day in which you'd leave."

Jocelyn giggled at her Uncle, feeling gratitude for ending up with a man so kind-hearted.

"And trust me young one, I'm down-right furious that lad Theodore is going to Durmstrang. The boy spent his entire childhood with you and now he announces he's off to a different school? That's blasphemy." He paused shaking his head. "The only boy I let come within a mile of you and even he has the guts to leave." Jocelyn watched amused as her Uncle muttered several misfortunes towards her best friend Theodore Nott.

It didn't upset her because she knew he was only saying those things to keep from blaming himself. In the end, Ab Ledore adored Theo. Also, he knew Theo wanted to go to Hogwarts with her but his father insisted on Durmstrang so that his son could excel in Quidditch.

Uncle Ab had only obliged because Theo had offered to travel to Hogwarts with her and stay for the first day of classes since Durmstrang opened a week after Hogwarts. Somehow her Uncle had convinced the schools headmaster to allow this, claiming he knew Albus Dumbledore from years prior.

So it was settled, Theodore Nott would escort Jocelyn to Hogwarts and stay for her first day, and then she was on her own.

This was also partially because the Nott's associated with plenty of people, which helped Theo make friends before school even started. He could help Jocelyn fit in.

So clearly, her Uncle Ab was horrified of parting with his beloved Lyn.

* * *

Jocelyn pressed her hands to her head as the train blared its horn. It signaled that the students had only five more minutes to board the train.

She turned to catch her best friend doubled-over in fits of laughter.

"What are you cackling about?" She questioned, frowning slightly.

"Please tell me you're not still terrified of horns?" Theo mused, watching her with an entertained expression.

Jocelyn narrowed her eyes at him. "Shut it you prat." She sneered, but only half-heartedly. In all honesty, this little banter with Theodore calmed her nerves a bit.

"Jocelyn Heringale! Mind your language!" Her uncle reprimanded. Jocelyn felt herself blush in embarrassment.

"Sorry." She muttered. A groan escaped her as she watched Theo's chuckles burst out yet again at her discomfort.

She decided to distract herself from wanting to strangle Theo by gazing around the platform. When her level of vision paused on the sign which said 'Platform 9¾ ', she smiled. Jocelyn loved the Wizarding world and could not imagine life without it. She often pondered over how Muggles survived without magic.

Not that she had anything against Muggles.

In fact, Jocelyn thoroughly enjoyed learning about their race. She didn't understand where her fascination rooted from, but it was there. When she'd gotten a chance to skim over the Hogwarts guide book, she almost squealed when she learned that they'd have a class called 'Muggle Studies' in the future. But for now she was stuck in the seven compulsory courses assigned to First years.

Jocelyn was pulled out of her thoughts after she felt someone take her arm. She looked up to she Mrs. Nott. Theodore's mum smiled down at Jocelyn kindly, just as she had since the day they'd first met. Mrs. Nott was a kind woman but very strict. She could be loving and fun, but place a toe out of line and she'd have your neck.

Jocelyn grinned back up at the woman who'd played a mother figure in her life since as far back as she could remember.

"Jocelyn sweetie, I'm so proud of you. You have to promise that you'll write often and I'm expecting a visit every time you're able to leave for holidays." Mrs. Nott brought Jocelyn in for a hug.

"I promise." Jocelyn murmured. Her friends mum gave her one last squeeze before letting go.

One glance at the giant grandfather clock told her she had only minutes left. Though she'd already shared an emotional goodbye with her uncle before they'd left the house, she still felt as if there was so much more to say.

Jocelyn felt her gut dive as she hugged her uncle one last time before she was forced to leave.

She felt Theo grab onto her fore-arm as he rushed them both towards the departing train. As she climbed on, she could help but look around the train with wide, curious eyes. She lived in the Wizard world her entire life, but still, her Uncle rarely let her out of Godric's Hollow.

It wasn't because he didn't like her, it was for her safety. For some reason, her Uncle Ab treated her as if she were the last unicorn on Earth.

As she amazedly rotated her head left and right, she didn't catch a young boy with white-blonde hair, curiously gazing at her. His smirk may have showed arrogance, but his eyes were genuinely occupied by staring at her.

* * *

It was finally time for the first years to be sorted into their houses. Jocelyn grinned brightly as she lined up, waiting eagerly to find out which house she'd be placed in.

The ride to Hogwarts had been uneventful, though satisfying. Jocelyn had enjoyed every minute of it. The best part was probably learning from Theodore that the famous Harry Potter was also starting his first year at Hogwarts this year. Jocelyn had beamed at the thought of meeting him, wondering what he could possibly be like.

Right now though, her mind was occupied by the sight of the Great Hall. It truly was a magnificent sight to behold with its thousands of floating candles, long ornate tables, bewitched ceiling and overall medieval atmosphere. Jocelyn wonder where she'd be three – maybe five - years from now. Walking these halls? Helping out new students just like she was now? Maybe even patrolling the halls as a prefect.

Would everything still be the same. What would be the greatest topic on her mind? Would her uncle still be there? Jocelyn often worried over her uncles' age, knowing that if he passed, she wouldn't have a single person to turn to. He was her only family, and had been since as far back as she could remember.

Of course she knew that he obviously wasn't her real dad, but she still liked to think that maybe they'd been together from the start. Jocelyn naturally could not recall much from her childhood, including any vivid memories of her real parents. Only a few jumbled images and phrases which she wasn't even sure were real. For all she knew, they could be highly realistic and effective dreams.

The only thing stopping Jocelyn from spending her entire life next to her uncle for fear of his health was the uphold of a positive attitude he maintained and healthy stature on a day-today basis. She knew that most of happiness was only painted on for her sake, but she appreciated it anyways.

It made her laugh sometimes, thinking of just how much her Uncle changed around her. She knew the grumpy and grouchy man he was around anyone else. A couple times she'd been able to witness his pessimistic attitude towards a customer at his bar, but he'd immediately change it to jolly when he'd see her.

Not once had her uncle yelled at her or raised his hand to harm her. The way he treated Jocelyn was as if she were a porcelain doll, and him a clumsy giant. Though she could argue about the clumsiness. Her Uncle Ab was the most precise and accurate man, while she was tripping over smooth, flat surfaces.

"Hermione Granger!" Jocelyn heard a tall, thin, and frail-looking woman who'd introduced herself as Professor McGonagall announce. She watched as a cute little girl with busy brown hair and an adorable nose climbed the few steps towards a lone chair. The girl – Hermione – looked absolutely terrified of being chosen first to be sorted into a House, but she deep breaths the was taken appeared to be helping.

Jocelyn watched her curiously as Professor McGonagall placed the Sorting Hat on the girls head. Jocelyn wondered what would happen. Her thoughts were answered quickly when within a few moments; the hat shouted dauntingly, "Gryffindor!"

Just like that, student after student was called up and sorted. Jocelyn had picked up a bit of a pattern. It seemed the Slytherin and Gryffindor students had a knack for cheering the loudest when one was sorted into their Houses.

"Draco Malfoy!" The Professor called. An averaged heighted boy with snow white skin and white-blonde hair slicked back with what could be betted about a full bottle of hair gel, stepped forward out of the crowd. She watched as he wore a practised smirk on his face, walking effortlessly and easily towards the chair.

Jocelyn wasn't sure if anyone else had caught it, but she'd managed to pick out a flaw in the boys 'perfect' actions. It seemed that the boy – 'Draco' – looked back and forth a little, clearly unsure. He looked just a tad nervous, and also as if he was carrying a load of pressure.

She watched how his eyes flicked repeated towards Slytherin House, his eyes pleading slightly. Then his two orbs met hers. They seemed to stall for a moment as her stared at her, but she was too busy staring back to notice. It was just, his eyes were such a nice grey, she felt almost as if they were the haziness which surrounded her dreams.

The Sorting Hat hadn't even entered the boys comfort zone before it shouted, "Slytherin!", also snapping Jocelyn out of her thoughts.

The mocking expression returned to Draco's features as he walked purposefully towards his Houses table. It was a tad annoying just how sure of himself he appeared.

_Merlin, the boy's only eleven! _Jocelyn thought, slightly annoyed. _How can he possibly look so matured? _

Other students were called and soon enough, Jocelyn heard a name she was familiar with.

"Harry Potter!" It seemed the entire roomed silenced at this proclamation. Everyone wanted to know which House 'The Boy Who Lived' was going to be sorted in to. Some people even looked surprise as if they hadn't known Harry was here.

The hat took a while with Harry, looking a bit stumped. All the while Harry held a pleading look on his face, almost as if he were begging for something. Finally the hat spoke.

"Gryffindor!" It hollered. The entire Gryffindor table burst out in cheers and hoots, clapping and wolf-whistling. Every one of them jumped out of their seats, yelling at the tops of their lungs. There were a pair of ginger-haired twins who looked to be doing a very original dance move.

It took a while for the commotion to die down. It turned out even most of the Professors had joined the standing ovations. Jocelyn smiled as she watched the schools game keeper – Rubeus Hagrid – wipe a few stray tears. It was blatant that he held a very strong connection to her schoolmate.

The shy-looking boy, Harry, made his way over to the Gryffindor table, looking a little at ease.

"Jocelyn Heringale!" Jocelyn didn't register that her name had been called until Theodore gave her a little shove towards the steps. She climbed the steps and made her way to the chair trying to look calm, knowing that every student before her had attempted to pull of the same façade. After a moment she realized she was the last student left to be sorted.

Soon enough she made it to the chair, and slowly placed herself on it. Jocelyn's eyes caught sight of the schools headmaster – legendary Albus Dumbledore – and she couldn't help but think that he looked very familiar. What surprised her a bit was the way the Headmaster had titled his head to the side in curiosity, almost as if he felt the same as her.

Jocelyn's thoughts were paused as the Sorting Hat was placed on her head.

_Hmmmm. _She heard it ponder. _Two troublesome decisions in a row, I see._

_Troublesome? _She questioned.

_Yes. I had a bit of trouble sorting that Potter boy as well. Luckily he made it easy by refusing one of the House's I had in mind. _The Sorting Hat had a very creepy tone, and its words were chilling whether they be kind or not.

_You've got the brain and thrive, but the two factors which seem to equally conquer are bravery and cleverness. You, little girl, have a mind matching that of Salazar Slytherin, but a heart that could rival Godric Gryffindor. But I must admit your knack for doing things without thinking is quite … annoying. I swear you could a have an army behind you and yet you'd run off to slay the dragon alone, not considering what the consequences could be. What puzzles me is that you have no desire to prove yourself, nor prove your status. Odd, really. But what can I say? Your grandmother was an exceptional example of that pure idiocy._

"Idiocy?" Jocelyn blurted, angrily. Immediately her cheeks flushed red realizing that the entire hall had heard.

_Once again she does without thinking. _The hat pestered.

_Don't you dare insult my family! And it seems you're here more for put-downs than sorting. _Jocelyn grew exceedingly furious with the hat, wanting to rip it to shreds for daring to utter a negative opinion about the family she'd never known.

_You realize I don't have to sort you, you know? And after that display of arrogance and your frustrating mind which won't tether to any House, I'm not going to. _With that the hat silenced and literally fell asleep on her head.

The entire population of the Great hall broke out in curious whispers, questioning what in the world had just happened.

_Well this is exceptionally embarrassing._ Jocelyn thought. She felt someone touch her shoulder and turned to see Professor McGonagall looking a tad confused.

"Dear? What is going on with you and the hat?" Jocelyn remembered that she was the only one who could hear the hat speak when it was on her.

"U-um, I don't know Professor." Jocelyn whispered, growing increasingly worried that she might have even broken the hat.

"Minerva." A raspy but pure voice called from the Head Table. Jocelyn turned to see the Headmaster headed their way.

Oh Merlin, she'd managed to involve the Headmaster, and it hadn't even been an hour into school! Technically, she wasn't even a student yet, not until the hat sorted her. So basically she managed to cause a scene before she'd even earned proper student status.

_Uncle Ab is going to be so interested to hear about this,_ she thought, groaning.

"Continue with the rest of the celebration and the feast. Ms. Heringale, you can follow me to the head table where we will decide what to do about this particular predicament."

Jocelyn followed the Headmaster, blushing furiously as she watched Professor McGonagall place the snoring hat back on a little presenting pedestal.

"Your attention please?" Professor McGonagall spoke. The students silenced eventually. "Even though there is a little bit of confusion with young Ms. Heringale's sorting procedure, we will be continuing with our celebration while the problem is dealt with. Professor Dumbledore will be back shortly, but until then, enjoy the feast!"

Jocelyn's little form trailed behind her Headmaster to his seat, not noticing the curious gaze Draco Malfoy had trained on her. The girl was perceptive, but not perceptive enough to notice that this was now the second time he'd opted to stare at her.


End file.
